


Lost In The Woods

by actualjohnwatson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Adopted Abigail Hobbs, Alternate Universe - Overboard Fusion, Amnesia, Domestic Fluff with some muder, M/M, except this time it's hannibal, power imbalnce, slow burn with oopsie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualjohnwatson/pseuds/actualjohnwatson
Summary: Six dogs, one teenage girl, and a cabin in the woods. Add one amnesiac serial killer and you get a recipe for love.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Murder in the Night Air

After three years the Chesapeake Ripper has begun his macabre and brutal murders once again with the mutilation of Gladis Striker.(As seen below) Claiming the lives of innocents and taking peaceful night’s rest from the general populace. 

That was what Freddie Lounds’s newest article had said about him, at any rate. Hannibal found that most of what Ms. Lounds wrote was childish and full of embellishments in order to sell her particular brand of journalism. Her take on the Chesapeake Ripper had him particularly ruffled. The Ripper was hardly taking innocents from their beds. He was doing himself a favor, and by extension the rest of the world, when he trimmed down the ruder, uglier pieces of meat.

Someday someone would catch up to Ms. Lounds and put a stop to her bad naming once and for all. Maybe it would even be Hannibal. But for now they would find his next composition inside the Enock Pratt Free Library’s main hall, an elegant setting for a most inelegant woman, and when Hannibal was finished constructing her mausoleum he would begin drafting the next one. He hummed as he arranged the flowers over the mausoleum he’d crafted, enjoying the solitude of the library, quiet as a tomb. Hannibal smirked.

This woman, Vania Gorden, the Head Librarian at such a well respected institute, was needlessly loud. A sin for someone in her position. And rude. She had commented on his book requests a number of times and his taste insinuating that his taste was snobbish. He was not a snob.

He had been a lost boy without a home. A young man too in love with the world and now he was the good Doctor Lecter. It was all a matter of evolution and someday he would move on from that man as well. Becoming and becoming and becoming. 

He rejoiced in who had become but this woman’s rudeness spoiled it somehow. Now she would be rubbed out like a stain. For now he was in Baltimore Maryland and had become the Chesapeake Ripper, and tonight The Chesapeake Ripper was composing. He handpicked his books for the top of his monument and backed away from the piece, proud. It was beautiful.  
***

Will stood before a masterpiece. A mausoleum made of books, standing seven feet tall at the least, well structured and painstakingly built. The white lilies blanketing the top contrasted the blood pooling from under the mausoleum, A beautiful piece of work. The ripper’s hands were all over it. 

“Is it him?” Jack prodded.

The woman entombed, Vania Gorden, had been found by her staff in the early morning, they had assumed a break in, a silly prank, until someone had stepped in the blood. The city police had dug her out, doing damage to the Rippers work but the scene was clear and easy to read.

The mausoleum was perfectly constructed. Beautifully designed.

“Gotta be.”

“He used mostly best sellers. A lot of James Patterson.” Price muttered, scanning the stacks. Price and Zeller were buzzing around the mausoleum itself. Taking each book would have to be examined and put into evidence. “ I didn’t know that guy wrote so many books.”

Zeller shook his head, bagging them one by one. “James Patterson, 50 Shades of Gray, right-wing scare tactic books. If it had mass market appeal, it’s in here.”

“Mass market drivel.” Will said, “The ripper is a snob.” But they all knew that by now. “A pretentious holier than thou man with a god complex.” 

Near fondness crept into his voice and Jack gave him a look. Concerned, but mostly angry.

But Will couldn’t help what he saw. And Jack was always angry.

He’d never danced with the ripper before. Not like this. Not up close. And he had to admit it was more elegant and pristine then most of the clumsy, disturbing, pieces he had seen before. The Ripper never meant to leave his pieces for shock. They were art.

“There’s not a trace of him. No prints on the body, nothing on the security cameras. He took her kidneys and then buried her in the mausoleum.” Bev leaned over the body, the corps’s hands still clasped together, peacefully.

Will blinked. “He suffocated her?”

Bev nodded, looking nearly as disappointed as Jack. It must be frustrating doing this over and over again. Will watched her hand skillfully chase. She’d been on this case since the beginning, much longer than Will had.

“Nothing’s out of place. He’s too meticulous to let anything get by now.” 

Snob. Control freak. Will felt like he knew the Ripper personally. He felt close to the Ripper in a way that felt different than any other profile he’d examined. Will could feel the Ripper in every sharp corner. He let himself embrace it. Will took a breath, closing his eyes.

He took his trophies first, her kidneys, before burying her alive. Suffocating her in mediocre books with mass appeal. He stacked the books around the librarian’s corpse, designing her mausoleum with pride. Every book stacked with precision and careful practice. Finishing with the white starburst lilies.  
He wanted nothing more than to make beautiful art with this woman who had been ugly to him. 

And in Will’s opinion, it was exactly what he’d done.  
***  
“And how's Abigail doing?”

This is how Alana always ended their sessions. Not that these were sessions exactly. Will had an arrangement with Alana that started when he decided he was going to adopt Abigail. He felt he had to prove himself to everybody. That he could take care of her and himself. That there was nothing wrong with him. But of course there was. And Alana just wanted to help Abigail. She’s the one who had helped him diagnose his encephalitis.

“She’s fine. School is stressing her out a bit, but she’s doing okay.”

“Any special plans for Thanksgiving?”

Will rubbed his sleepy eyes, his day had been long and he had an hour and a half drive home.“Not if the Ripper is still out there doing damage. If I can’t be there with her will you, uh-” He huffed, frustrated that he couldn’t be with her. “keep her with you?” 

Alana smiled gently, like he was fragile. That cut him. “Of course.”

“I hate leaving her alone so much in all this.”

“She has the dogs. And me.”

Will gave her a sideways look. “You don’t count.”

“Thanks,” she said with good natured sarcasm.

“I know she has her friends and the dogs. And you.” He conceded. “And I know she likes being alone. We’re alike that way. I just wish she had someone closer if she needed something.”

“A grown up who wasn’t an hour away?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

“Have you put any more thought on online dating?”

Will’s nose turned up at the mere suggestion. “Same amount of thought, none.”

“Abigail’s going to college in the spring.”

“And it’ll be just me alone again with my dogs. I know, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I think having someone next to you has really helped you come to terms with all the pressure that comes with your job.” He hated when she tried to give real therapeutic advice. Couldn’t they just...talk? It was easier to forget when she wasn’t trying to break his head open.

“I know that, too, Alana. I’m observant.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to look. You know what they say about fish.”

He squeezed his eyes shut “I’ve heard that one once or twice.”

“I’m just saying.”

“You don’t have any single psychologist friends you could set me up with? I’m sure they’d kill to take a look at my brain.” Maybe he could lighten the mood a little bit.

“I do, but I don’t know if they're your type.”

Apparently there was no room for levity.“I’m not going out of my way to meet somebody, Alana.”

“Abigail gave you someone else to focus on, especially when you were sick. I think she brought stability to your life when you really needed it.”

Will had to cut this conversation off at the pass.“I could get another dog.”

Alana sighed. “Okay, I think that’s enough for today.”

Will snickered.“Is that how you want me to deal with my problems, Doctor Bloome? By ignoring them?” 

“I don’t think you’re going to listen to this advice, Will.” He’d disappointed her. Again. Maybe it would be good that Abigail is going to school. Maybe it would be better for him to be alone. Who would take him anyway?

****  
Hannibal was tracking the man through the snow. He’d tracked Arthur Gibson before. Gibson sold luxury cars with questionable business practises. One in five of his models was faulty, he had discovered after some light snooping; the mechanic Hannibal had taken his brand new Bentley to said someone had tampered with the fuel tank. Hannibal had taken Gibson’s business card some time ago.

He was repugnant.

Gibson was making his way over the frozen lake, finding his spot in the snow. He was an easy enough target, though Hannibal would have to watch for hunting paraphernalia. Watching the man squat over the ice, Hannibal felt he could win in a fair fight or otherwise. He’d disarmed enough people in and out of the emergency room to feel confident in his abilities.

Determined, he set out over the frozen lake, lifting a hand in greeting, the sun gently on the rise before him. Gibson squinted at him, “Sorry buddy this is my spot, I got here before you.”

“That’s all very well, but I’m not a fisherman.” he smiled at Gibson, Hannibal slid his knife from his sleeve.

“Then you best get out of here, friend.” Gibson pulled out a gun from his coat pocket and the knife went back up Hannibal’s sleeve. 

He lifted his hands in innocence and he gave Gibson his most shocked expression.

“I meant no harm. Seeing someone else in the early morning light, I thought I could share a meal, maybe some coffee and then I’ll be on my way. The morning is perfect for a hike, I believe.” Gibson put his .45 back in the holster and nodded at Hannibal, most of the suspicion wiped from his features. 

“If you’ve got coffee in that big ol’ coat of yours I’d be willing to partake.” He smiled and pulled at a flask of something from his own coat.

Hannibal nodded, watching as Gibson seemed to relax and trust him, turning back to his little fishing hole. He quietly walked towards him from behind , ready to slit his throat.

Gibson must have felt the presence, and in hindsight, Hannibal should have left the crook for another day. As Gibson stood up and turned, he hit Hannibal in the temple with the butt of his gun. Mistakes were inevitable, but he never would have thought such a pathetic horrible man would be the downfall of the Chesapeake Ripper. Hannibal’s world faded to black and he crumpled in the snow.


	2. A Dream is a Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will goes on a hike and finds a man lost in the woods.

The Saturday morning after his session with Alana, Will had gone out early for some ice fishing. It cleared his head after cases and he needed the time to himself. Abigail didn’t mind.

The dogs, more so. They gave him sad eyes as they watched him with his gear and his boots. He tried to explain that they’d scare the fish but they still watched him go like he was betraying their trust.

Will loved his dogs.

Abigail liked the time to herself, too, specifically after Will had a case and Alana had been a frequent visitor to Wolf Trap. He’d thought about Alana romantically once upon a time, but Abigail made it clear she was happy with just Will and her. Not that there was anything wrong with Alana, Abigail had clarified, but the idea of ending up with an evil stepmother along with the rest of her problems was too much.

Besides, no one could replace her real mother. 

So Will had put his designs on Alana Bloom away. She was a good friend, anyway. Even when Alana was busy, she made sure to check in with Abigail and the dogs. He paid for her gas, but that’s all he had to give. Alana always took it like she was doing him a favor, but at least she let him pay her something.

Will trudged through the snow, feeling the cold, clean air in his lungs. It made him feel alive again. Like he was waking up from a dream. He watched the sun rise over the lake, checking for a spot to sit and wait for the fish to bite. Will spied something on the lake, black against the stark snow. A bundle of blankets or-

Or a person.

Will called out to them, lurching forward, the blood thundering in his ear. It was well below freezing, who knows how long this person had been out here incapacitated.

This person was in trouble. His cabin was a fifteen minute ride in his station wagon, the nearest hospital an hour and a half away. If Will could get them to a warm dry place, that was something. Will rolled them over, checking for injuries.

There was a gash across the man’s temple and Will checked his pulse. Alive. His heartbeat was steady at least. The jacket he was wearing was expensive, full of down feathers that probably saved his life. Will let out a breath. At least he wasn’t going to have to call somebody to take this guy away in a body bag.

“Hey,” Will snapped his fingers in front of the man's face. “You’re going to be a bitch to drag across the ice.” The man grabbed Will’s wrist, spooking him a little, and attempted to throw his hand away, mumbling at Will in a language he didn’t understand, and then closed his eyes again. Will growled back in frustration. He jogged back to his station wagon to grab a tarp and rolled the bloody man on to it to pull him over the snow and into the back seat.

Will sat a minute in his car, getting a hold of himself. The thing to do now was to bring him home and get him warm. He could figure out what to do with the stranger after he woke up. Find out who to call. Will could set him up downstairs on the couch. If the man did something to Abigail...Well, there would be consequences. 

Will looked at the digital clock on his dash as he parked in front of the house. Two hours after he left. He doesn’t expect his seventeen-year-old to be up until ten, at the earliest. The house was quiet, save for the dogs who were excited to see him. He didn’t want to wake Abigail and let the dogs out to keep them from prodding their curious noses into anything they shouldn’t. With a last-ditch effort Will carried the man over the threshold and hauled him onto the couch, some dogs trailing behind him.

He stoked a fire and stripped the man of his expensive coat. And found something...odd. A plastic one-piece suit. Will had dismissed the pants as fishing gear out on the ice, and that had been a stretch but this one-piece suit was suspect. He swallowed and began to take it off anyway, ignoring the creeping feeling on the back of his neck. The clothes underneath were soaked in sweat and so fine Will wondered if the silk shirt cost more than his couch. 

After he removed the onesie it’s all business. Will wondered if it would bother the man if he knew he’d be naked in front of strangers. It wouldn’t really bother Will, but he isn’t most people. He snuck up stairs to retrieve a T-shirt for him at least. It might be a little snug but Will was trying. 

Abigail opened her door and looked at him suspiciously. “What are you doing back home so early?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Go back to sleep.”

Abigail looked at him with the extra T-shirt in his hand and followed him downstairs, stopping stock-still at the bottom step.“What are you doing?” she whispered, panic clear on her face. “Is he dead?” 

“No,” Will began calmly. “He’s not dead. I found him while I was on the ice. He needs to warm up. Do you think you could make us some coffee?” 

Abigail ramped up her panic. “You can’t just bring people home, Will! What if he's dangerous?!”

“He’s unconscious, Abigail. What's he gonna do, snore on you?”

Abigail gave him her darkest look. “So you think I’m the one being ridiculous right now.”

“Look what’s the harm in helping him? You know I would never let him hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Abigail crossed her arms, and stared into the fireplace. 

“Can you get me some warm water and a washcloth?” Will asked, gently.

“Get it yourself.” Abigail huffed, turning away from him and into the kitchen.

Will sighed and shook his head, going upstairs for supplies to clean the guy up. He knew that she was frightened, but Abigail was the most precious thing in the world to him. There was no question as to what he would do if this man tried to hurt her. When he came downstairs, he could smell the coffee brewing at least.

Will cleaned up the gash on their guest’s temple and then the errant blood on his hands. He had beautiful hands. He propped the man up and got the shirt on him with some effort, trying not to look at the stranger or touch him. Objectively the guy was pretty good-looking. He looked like he was a living sculpture, a Renaissance painting come to life. Even with the blood on his face. Maybe especially so. 

He’d been staring too long. “Creep.” Will chided himself, turning away from the man going to make himself his own coffee and then grab a book off the shelf, not much left to do but wait. Abigail was sitting at the table reading with her coffee and her book. 

“Our guest should wake up soon.” Will said, reaching for a coffee mug.

“I’m not interested.” Will heard her willfully set down her mug.

“He’s hurt, Abigail.”

“He’s not a stray, Will.”

Will’s mouth puckered, and he felt himself souring. He poured his coffee and left Abigail to her own devices. 

There had been no ID in his pants. Nothing on him. Maybe he’d been out for a walk. It isn’t that strange, surely. But the plastic suit. What was the point? Why had he been wearing it?

The snow was covering them up and keeping them stranded. It would be rough to go anywhere, hospital included, now. It was making Will’s imagination run away with him. Who was this man with blood on his hands? It wouldn't do to romanticise the man. Maybe Abigail was right anyway and he was some devil. They wouldn’t know until he woke up.

Finally, around noon the houseguest opened his eyes, wet hair matted to the pillow. He blinked up at Will, eyes a nice brown like whiskey. He looked like a fawn blinking for the first time. It made Will smile.

“Who are you?” He asked, placid as a glacier. It made something run up Will’s spine, bone-deep.

“Will Graham. You-do you remember who you are? You hit your head.”  
The guest cocked his head. “I remember my name, and that’s all.”

Wills eyebrows climbed halfway up his forehead and his half-formed daydream broke the surface and became a dangerous and wild idea. “Your name?”

“Hannibal-” He looked at a loss, searching for something he couldn’t grasp. “Just Hannibal it seems.”

He had such a fascinating accent. “Graham. It’s Hannibal Graham now.” He could hear Abigail in his head. See her angry face. What are you doing, Will? What the fuck are you doing? “You wanted to change it when we-when we got married.”

Well it was out there now. Will waited for the world to explode around him. 

But Hannibal just watched him, calculated. “I see.”

“You really don’t remember?” Will chewed his lip. Worried. Is he going to get caught? He’s going to have so much to do to play catch-up. This was the stupidest idea he’s ever had. A grade A bad idea.

“I really don’t remember.” Hannibal shook his head, patted the cushion on the couch. “Come, sit with me.”

Will swallowed, “I don’t want to presume.”

Hannibal tried to smile and failed. “As much as that is appreciated I feel as though I’m adrift and in need of an anchor.”

“I guess it’s my job to be that anchor isn’t it?” Will moved to sit close to the stranger. Do they touch? He sat so his thigh touched Hannibal’s arm. “What do you want to know? I feel like there’s so much I could tell you.”  
How much bullshit could he make up?

“You won't look at me.” No. Will watched his hands clasp and unclasp the flannel blanket, fascinated with the way they moved. 

“Not a big fan of eye contact. It’s not you.” Hannibal’s fingers caress the soft fabric of the blanket.

“It must be a strange sort of relationship then.”

Will chuckled wryly. “You could say that, yeah.”

“How did I end up with no memory?”

“We were ice fishing and you slipped on the ice. You hit your head pretty hard.”

“Ice fishing. Is that something we do together often?” The look on Hannibal’s face was shocked and it made Will want to laugh. He put his hand over his mouth.

“No, I- we don’t do it often enough, it’s something I like to do after a particularly trying day at work.” The lie came to him fully formed and easy to deliver. “You wanted to come with me, we’d been apart for a bit longer than usual.”

Hannibal's eyebrows knit together. “What work do you do that takes you from home so often?”

“I work for the FBI. Part-time investigator, a profiler, part-time professor.”

“This is important work.” Hannibal nods solemnly and Will cringes.

“That’s what they tell me.”

“You’re not satisfied in the work you do?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” And as handsome as he was the questions are cold. Calculating.

“I’m curious about you. I’m interested in your well-being as your husband.”

“Yes, you’re very dutiful.” Isn’t this what Will asked for? To be cared for? If only he knew how to be loved like that.

“I’m sure this is very difficult for you.” The calm in his voice was nearly rage-inducing. Will took a breath. He did this to himself. No reason to take it out on Hannibal.

“No. I’m sorry. You have every right to ask as many questions as you want.”

“This is a very strange situation for all of us, not just me.”

“Yeah, I guess.” The calmness in which he said it though was infuriating. It felt almost unnatural and made Will want to scream.

“What is it that I do, Will?” Hannibal looked over Will’s small living space. The books, the dogs, a small nook for Abigail’s knitting.

“You take care of our daughter. You cook. You clean. You take care of the dogs.”

“Have I been away?”

The living room is messy, bordering on disgusting. “Um, you’ve had some issues lately. A cold while I was gone. And Abigail, she’s doing a lot of SAT prep work for the fall.” 

“This is the first time you’ve mentioned Abigail. Where is she? I would very much like to meet her.”

“She’s reading in the kitchen. This whole thing is going to come as a shock to her. Abigail, she’s- I don’t want this to hurt her anymore than it has too.”

“She’s fragile.”

The assessment puts Will on the defensive. “She’s had it rough.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. As her father I feel I have a right to know her.”

“She might not be willing to treat you as a father figure right away. This is a weird situation.”

“You’re very protective of her.”

“Of course I’m protective of her.” Will’s temper burst then. No. Hannibal can poke and prod him all he wants, but Abigail is off-limits.

“What happened to her?”

“It’s- complicated. And not really my story to tell.”

“We don’t have to go into it now.” Hannibal looked very understanding. Will gritted his teeth.

“Quit acting so reasonable.” 

Hannibal blinked at him innocently. “How would you wish me to act, Will?”

“I don’t know, like a human being?” Will glares at the dust bunnies in the corner, hanging around the candy bar wrapper. “Forget it. I’ll go get the coffee. And talk to Abigail. It might take her a few days to come around.”

“I can be patient.”

“Oh I can see that.” Will, on the other hand, is regretting letting someone else in his home. Feels too much like the man is getting into his head.


	3. I Don't Want This Feeling To Go Away

Will sighed long and loud, feeling frustrated and flustered. He didn’t want to take any of that out on the kid. She didn’t make the biggest mistake of her life. This was going to be harder than he thought and he needed an ally. 

“Abigail, do you like driving to school in the dark and the snow?”

She didn’t look up from her book. “Not really, no.”

“Do you like staying by yourself when I’m gone for work?” He leaned against the door frame.

“Why’re you asking me leading questions?”

“I have a leading answer.”

She turned in her seat, peering behind him and into the hallway. “Did that man wake up?”

Will nodded. “He did. He has amnesia.”

“I told you we should have brought him to the hospital.”

“Not possible in a storm like this. Do you remember when we talked about hiring a housekeeper?”

“I talked about it and you laughed saying we didn’t have enough money.”

“We don’t.”

She narrowed her eyes, searching his face. “Then why are you bringing it up again.”

“Our guest doesn’t have anywhere to go. It wouldn’t feel right to kick him out on the street. Maybe he can stay and help out. We need it.”

“He’s still a stranger.”

“What if he doesn’t think he is?”

Abigail scrunched up her nose. “You’re not making sense. Did you hit your head too?”

Will shook his head. “I told him he was part of the family.”

“What?”

Will took a step closer and quietly admitted what he’d done. “I told him he was my husband.”

Abigail looked too shocked to be angry. “You told a stranger you were married to him. Will, do you even like guys?”

Will narrowed his eyes,“I had a life before you came along, you know.” 

Abigail snickered. “Right.”

“Look, this could be a good thing for us. And maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow and remember everything. But then he calls somebody to pick him up and it’s over. There’s little chance that it’s going to affect us in the long run.”

She shook her head. “This is ridiculous. What if Jack stops by? What if Alanna does?”

“I’ll be as transparent as possible. I’ll let them know that I’m-seeing someone.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine how that’s going to backfire.” She said sarcastically. “You want me to lie for you.”

“Look if you’re worried about him hurting you, you know I would never let that happen.” Will said vehemently. 

“It’s not that. Or not only that. This is going to be really hard to pull off.”

“You’re in?”

“Will. Of course I’m in.” Abigail sighed. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and if it backfires I’m going to deny my entire involvement, but I’m not going to leave you out to dry, not like this.”

“Seems reasonable.”

“Alana always says I’m very mature.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“So… do you want me to go out there and talk to him or what?”

“Maybe not yet,” Will thought of the mostly naked man on his couch. “Do you think you could go into the attic and grab one of the boxes marked as old clothes? They were my dad’s. They’ll fit our friend alright.“

Abigail nodded, “I’ll wash them and hang them up in your closet.” Already thinking ahead of him. The two of them working together really would be the only way to keep this together.

Will went back into the living room to give Hannibal his coffee, bringing him a snack.

“Is this how I like it?” Hannibal gave him a raised eyebrow.

“Yes.” Will reassured him, confidence he didn’t feel in the gesture. “Are you hungry? I brought you some pop tarts.”

Will had even put it on a plate.

Hannibal sipped his coffee and nibbled on the pop tart, taking a small bite and leaving it on the plate in his lap. “Tell me about Abigail.”

Will sighed. Regretting his life choices. again.

“She came from a rough place. Her dad I- He was a killer. Grooming her to do the same. She came to live with me when she was fourteen after we...bonded. It wasn’t recommended but we didn’t want to be separated. And now she’s gonna graduate in the spring.”

“And you feel like you’re going to lose her.”

Will gave him the dirtiest look. “Stop doing that.”

“I would if I knew how.”

Will looked into those sweet brown eyes, light of the fire turning them to caramel. “Sure you would.”

Hannibal scooted a bit nearer, plate of half-eaten dry pastry balanced on his knee. “How do we usually spend our evenings, Will?”

“We read on the couch? Abigail knits and listens to music or watches videos on her tablet. Sometimes she forces us to watch a movie.” It’s not really even a lie.

“Can we recreate that this evening?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll make dinner tonight. You’re recovering.”

“Can you bring me something to read?”

“Sure.“ Will pulled Catcher in the Rye off his shelf and handed him the book.

He cocked his head, “This doesn’t feel familiar to me at all.”

“Enjoy it. I wish i could read it a second time.” Will wondered what it was his mysterious stranger actually liked to do, what he actually enjoyed reading. He sighed inwardly, feeling that flicker of remorse.

Will got started on his dinner. He made fish with lemon butter, mashed potatoes and green beans. Hannibal ate more of that then he did of the pop tart so Will assumed he liked it alright.

Will hovered over Hannibal as he came into the kitchen. Abigail was pulling out the fish from the oven and placing it on the table. She looked between Hannibal, his hands on the chair and Will’s anxious face. 

Abigail wiped her hands on her pants and gave Hannibal one to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Abigail. I know you don’t know me, but I’ll try not to make this too weird.”

Dinner was quiet conversation; Hannibal asking Abigail questions about herself and school. Charming and gentle all at once. And to her credit she tried to be as patient as possible with him. Taking all her ire out on Will. He couldn’t really blame her.

He led Hannibal back to the couch and had him sit down while Will and Abigail cleared up dinner. Their normal: he washed, she dried. “Hey.”

She looked at him, unamused and he bumps his shoulder into hers.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this.”

“You never said that before.” She says, only a bit stiff now.

“Well I am. The storms let up a little. Do you think we could take him to the hospital, leave him there and forget this whole thing happened? It’s not too late. Sure it would be embarrassing but I’d get over it.”

“No, I like him. I think he could fit in here.”

“I think this just means we both need to get our heads checked.”

“You can’t change your mind now, come on.” 

“He made quite an impression on you. I thought you didn’t want to be Cinderella.”

“Hannibal’s not Alana, Will.”

“But you like Alana.”

“Yeah. I do like her.”

“Then why is Hannibal different?”

“I don’t think Alana would be good for you, that’s all.”

“But this stranger is okay?”

She shrugged and dried hands on a dish towel and went out the door. Will followed her and joined Hannibal on the couch. He was sitting up now, smiling his enigmatic smile and scooting closer to Will.

After dinner Will joined Hannibal on the couch. Hannibal looked up at him, feathery hair in his eyes. “Hello, Will.”

“Hey. How are you enjoying your book?”

“I think I’m learning more about you then you’d expect.”

“Yeah like what?”

“Like what an angry young man you must have been.” Hannibal leaned close. His arm brushing Will’s.

Hannibal settled back against him and Will was forced to deal with it.

Hannibal read, and Will pretended to read, flipping pages he didn’t see and Abigail watched something on her tablet, glancing over at them surreptitiously. It was hard to concentrate with the smell and the feel of Hannibal’s body against his.

The clock struck ten and Abigail stretched and got up out of her chair.

“You crazy kids have a good night, I’m headed to bed.” She called Lacy the poodle upstairs with her.

“G’night.” Will swallowed. Hannibal was all over him and Abigail had abandoned him.

This came with the husband territory didn’t it? He hadn’t expected this- so soon.

“Good night, Abigail.” Hannibal looked at Will like his soul intent was to eat him and Will swallowed.

“So uh. You should probably take the bedroom tonight.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows bowed slowly.

“Yeah. You don’t know me, I don’t want you to think I expect you to be comfortable just sleeping with you. It might feel like I’m taking advantage.”

Hannibal smiled at him. Full grin sharp teeth, glinting in the firelight. Will felt he wouldn’t be the one taking advantage. “That’s awfully kind of you, Will.”

Will scratched the back of his head. “I’m trying.” Hannibal was making it difficult though. He couldn’t remember the last real person he’d had in his bedroom. It was long before Abigail showed up in his life. 

Hannibal was practically in his lap. Will stood up, shrugging Hannibal off of him as gently as he could. “I could really use a nightcap first. Would you think?”

He nodded slightly and Will led him to the kitchen where he pulled out the scotch and the glasses. His face looked confused. “You don’t have wine?”

Will poured himself two fingers, “We’re out.” Like everything else in their kitchen. And Will wasn’t fond of what wine he could afford.

“Is this something we do?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Especially after days like today.” He gave a smile. Lying was easier to do than he expected, especially when it was half-truths.

“Will?”

He sat across from Hannibal, sipped his scotch. “Hmm.” Gosh, his eyes were tired. It had been quite the day.

“Are we considering divorce?”

Will swallowed his drink with such force he coughed on the way down. “What? No. What made you think that?”

“You’re uncomfortable with my touch. Eye contact is abysmal. You’re afraid to be in the same room with me unless Abigail is there. The signs are there.”

Why was he so good at pinning Will down like a dead butterfly on a tray?

“I told you about the eye contact thing and I don’t want you to feel obligated to touch me or any of that until you’re ready.” Which is a poor excuse for all of it. Hannibal might be ready now. Will, though, felt deeply uncomfortable with his lying.

“You also act uncomfortable at simple affection. Hannibal's big hands cupped his face and he trembled. The intimacy made him feel drunker than the whiskey on the table beside him. Will’s eyes closed and his hand wrapped Hannibal's on his face. “Keep it there.”

“But if I go further?”

“No.” 

Hannibal nodded, his thumb stroking Will’s cheek. “Why are we waiting, Will?”

“You’re recovering. Hit your head really hard.” His breath was coming so hard and fast. “You could have a concussion. Don't want to scramble your brain.”

Hannibal kIssed his forehead. Gentle. So gentle with his rough manners, rough hands in his soft smooth beautiful and firm hands. So warm. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”

“No, but let’s- let’s be safe."

"Very noble of you, Will.”

Will shook his head, watching the whiskey swish around his tumbler. “I’m not trying to be noble. I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt.” 

Hannibal pulled away to look him squarely in the eyes. “You can’t hurt me, Will. I see you.”

He felt a wave crash over him. The way Hannibal looked at him made Will squirm. “But you don’t. You don’t remember me. You don’t know me, anymore.” Will finished his drink too quickly, the warmth spreading through his chest. “Come on. Let's get you to bed.”

Hannibal followed him upstairs, clutching his hand. Will glanced back and saw a lost little boy. Will had trapped him here and lied to him. Hannibal had been searching for something to hold onto and the most logical step had been to hold onto Will. Will sighed and squeezed Hannibal’s hand.

“I’ll keep the dogs out of here tonight okay?” 

“Yes, that would be best I think.”

He watched Hannibal get in the bed, lingered in the doorway. “Do you need anything else?”

Hannibal patted the bed beside him. 

“I can’t stay in here.” Will sighed, sitting near him on the bed. 

Hannibal nodded, solemnly. “You don’t trust me"

“I don’t trust myself.”

Something flashed over Hannibal's face. Pain? Fear? Panic? Whatever it was Will didn’t want to see him make it again. 

Will kissed him. Quick. No hesitation and nearly fell into him. He tried to make it quick but Hannibal grabbed his shirt and Will forgot himself. This man wanted him, how was he supposed to deny himself this.

Heat from the wanting poured from them both, and Will was excited, needing Hannibal, in a way he was not used to. Not comfortable with. Felt broken by. “I gotta get out of here.” 

“You don’t.” Hannibal grabbed his pant leg and Will wanted to cry. He pulled away, and grabbed his pillow off the bed. “I can let one of the dogs in if you don’t want to be alone.” 

Hannibal looked down at Will clutching the pillow and pouted. Will couldn't keep from laughing at him. He had the face of Greek statue and yet, that pout was very cute. “That’s a no?”

“I’d rather you stay with me” 

“I know," Will whispered, brushing his feathery hair off his forehead and Hannibal winced. Will drew back his hand. “I’m getting you something else for your head.” He still had Valium left over from the rotator cuff surgery last year. “It should help you sleep.”

Will retrieved the medicine from the bathroom and Hannibal looked pitiful. Will felt horrible for lying to him all at once. But then would Hannibal like him anymore? Would Hannibal still want to kiss him? He shouldn’t do that again. It wasn’t right to manipulate Hannibal this way.

“Here.” Will handed him a glass of water and pressed the Valium in his hand. They said their goodnights, Hannibal staring after him as the door closed.

It wasn't right but Will wasn't going to stop. He didn't want to.


End file.
